


Because The Night Belongs To Lovers

by ladyofdecember



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Lost Love, M/M, Post-At World's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 12:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofdecember/pseuds/ladyofdecember
Summary: Jack is suffering nearly sleepless nights in Tortuga when he comes face to face with someone he'd long been trying to forget. Was written prior to Dead Men Tell No Tales.





	Because The Night Belongs To Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> "Have I doubt when I'm alone  
> Love is a ring, the telephone  
> Love is an angel disguised as lust  
> Here in our bed until the morning comes
> 
> Come on now try and understand  
> The way I feel under your command  
> Take my hand as the sun descends  
> They can't touch you now"  
> – Because The Night Belongs To Lovers, Patti Smith

It had been almost twenty years since he'd seen him last. Wait... was that right? He was getting old... well, not old, finely aged.

Jack sat back against the headboard in the dimly lit room at his tavern in Tortuga. He had barely gotten any sleep the last few nights and it wasn't due to his drinking nor his bedfellows. He'd recently become tormented with dreams, nightmares he'd even reckon to call them. 

The dreams had featured one Will Turner, a man he'd been trying to forget. One he'd tried to not think about anymore if possible.

Fearing he would not be getting any sleep again, Jack decided to venture down below to the bar and have a drink or ten to calm his nerves and mind, not that he hadn't already had more than a few that afternoon.

…

Fast asleep in his bed, the drinks had done their due diligence in helping the older pirate rest and relax. He didn't know how many pints he'd had, having lost count after the first five or so but it didn't matter. It wasn't like he had a crew or anything to manage.

Rustling sounds in the room didn't awaken Jack but when his bed began to move under the weight of someone, that certainly did. He snorted as he awoke, shooting up in bed, covers flying about.

A familiar figure was sat next to him on the bed and he was unable to speak for a moment, fearing himself not fully awake.

“William?” Jack croaked, not trusting his eyes or his mind at this point. “Nah... illusion.” Jack shook his head to clear the image as he bent over to the bedside table and took a swig of rum from his bottle.

Will removed his hat, holding it to his chest as he carefully chose his next few words. “Jack... it's good to see you.” He said softly, a small, unsure smile cropping up on his face.

The pirate ignored him, continued taking swigs from his bottle before turning to lay back down on the small bed. He shut his eyes, rolling on to his side to face away from the image. It was best to get some sleep and forget this whole nightmare. This wasn't real. This was another dream, t'is all.

But Will wasn't to be ignored. He tossed his hat on to the table and placed gentle hands on the older man's shoulder.

“There'll be no livin' like this... “ Jack mumbled into the pillow, so softly that Will wasn't sure he'd fully heard him.

“Jack... “ He tried again.

“I can't do this.”

“What?”

The older man rolled onto his back finally, facing the ghost of his past. If the vision wasn't from his inebriation then it was from his already deranged mind's beginning steps of deterioration. He was old, damn old by now and as much as he was loathe to admit it, the time for retirement was coming soon. But with piracy there was no such thing as retirement. A good gun with one shot was all you really needed.

Jack sighed, giving in to his mind's insistence, rolling onto his back to face the 'man'. “I don't want to live in the past. I don't want this, this dream... or nightmare!”

“You're not dreaming. I'm... actually here. Is that so hard to believe?” Will asked with a small smile.

“Yes! Bloody hell yes, you know it is! You're dead!”

The ghost of William Turner, undead William Turner sat back on his legs in resignation. He knew he'd find his friend in a state, being here in Tortuga but he hadn't imagined how hard it'd be to convince him he was back. He let his eyes rake over the man's face, tired, much older with just a trace of apprehension. Letting his eyes trail lower, he noticed the state of his clothes, torn and dirty, dirtier than usual. The man seemed to be slipping from his former days of glory, though he supposed, that was to be expected.

Jack shifted under the gaze, feeling more and more uneasy as the seconds ticked on. He so wanted to sleep, so wanted to rest his weary mind and not think about the past or hell even the prior day's events. He was so tired. He wanted to forget.

“Jack... “ Will sighed, unsure of how else to continue. Finally he leaned forward to press his lips against the man's own. The kiss was brief and chaste and before he knew it Will was already pulling away.

“You're dead... you're not... “ Jack mumbled, faltering in his argument and already missing the feel of those coarse lips on his own.

Will brought his hands up to Jack's long and intricately styled hair. He placed a gentle, steady hand on the back of his tanned neck, pulling him closer, bringing his rough lips to crash against the man's own once more, this time for longer.

He kissed him softly at first before increasing in speed and force. Jack felt himself being pushed down onto the soft mattress below, both hands pushing him down onto the surface.

“Jack... I've... missed you.” Will breathed out between kisses.

“William... “ Jack peered up at him with hazy vision. He took in his features, a little older, but still the same man he knew before. Could it be true?

Jack moved to finger the fabric of his sleeves of his shirt and the vest he wore. He took in the way his hair was looser now and longer.

Will kissed him once more, silencing anymore opposition and Jack found any fight left in him diminished. His tongue pushed in against the older man's and he sank down to press his body against the man's own and into the mattress. If this was an illusion, Jack thought, it must be a bloody good one, what with the physical being and all.

Soon, all thoughts and concerns were forgotten, fading away into darkness.

…

When Jack awoke in the morning, his mouth was dry and his neck and back hurt something fierce. He struggled up into a sitting position, rubbing his head, his eyes shut in pain and wanting to block out the light streaming from the nearby window's misaligned drapery. 

This hangover seemed to be worse than the others he'd had as of late. Taking a deep breath in and out, Jack finally cracked open an eye to survey his room. Memories from the night before came flooding back and he suddenly stared wide-eyed at the spot on the bed next to him.

There was no one. In fact, he was in the room alone. So then, why did he have all of these memories about another man? Oh... right.

Jack recalled the memories of him and Will. William Turner! He had returned and yet he was supposed to be dead, cursed to Davy John's Locker?

“William... “ He mumbled to himself, hand reaching up to touch his lips from where they'd been kissed the night before.

With a flurry of sudden energy, Jack tossed the covers aside and began dressing, seeing as he was completely buck naked. Once dressed proper, he flew out into the hall and down towards the stairs.

…

The tavern was quiet this early in the morning, being occupied only by the very drunk and those who had fallen unconscious in their seats.

Jack quietly made his way down the stairs, keeping a weather eye out for young William or anyone he might be able to ask about him.

Once he spotted a gentleman, downing some rum in the corner still, he tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, almost conspiratorially. “'Scuse me... 'ave you seen a young man, a eunuch no doubt, with long chestnut hair and dark eyes?”

The older man peered up at him deliriously, smirking and laughing at seemingly nothing. “Ain't seem 'im! Sorry mate.”

Jack nodded, disappointed and ventured onward, peering here and there and looking for any clues as to him not being completely crazy.

He asked a woman whose bosom was nearly bursting out of the top of her dress. He was, momentarily, distracted.

“Yes? Need somethin' dearie?” The overly made up woman asked, fanning herself against the heat even this early in the morn and smiling lecherously at Jack.

He recovered. This was more important right now. “Yes, 'ave you see a young lad, much younger than me, come this way? He'd have dark hair, dark eyes... ?”

The woman seemed to consider it for a long moment, giving momentary hope to Jack's seemingly foolish conquest. Finally, she shook her head. “Sorry, m'love! I don't think so. Maybe seen an'ther that fits that description. But he was much, much older.”

Jack nodded courteously, offering her his clasped hands and then wandered off, wondering if he were perhaps losing his mind.

…

Stepping out onto the docks themselves, the sun hit him square in the eye with full force. He groaned, his headache doubling in intensity as he stumbled over to one of the cargo loaders for the ships. 

“'Scuse me... I wonder. Might you have seen a man, a young man, pass by here recently?”

The black man nodded with earnest, smiling slightly. “Oh yes. I have!”

“Really?” Jack gaped. “Wait... what did he look like?”

“He was a young boy, maybe ten or so! He went that way.” The man pointed down towards the shore offhandedly before turning back to his work.

The pirate shook his head in exasperation. “No, no. I'm looking for a man! A man! Not much younger than me really. Well... I s'pose a bit. He's long dark hair, argumentative, naive... ? “

The man shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry, I haven't.”

Jack sulked and stomped away. Either his mind was going or William had become a master at disappearing. As he settled down on a crumbling brick wall nearby, he let his thoughts turn to the last time he'd seen the man. Just why had he come back? Why had he sought him out specifically? Could it all be a delusion? He didn't trust his own mind anymore.

As multiple ships began to cast off into the great blue horizon, Jack wondered if he were wasting his life here in Tortuga. Perhaps, he ought to get a ship together, a crew again and make his way out in to the world. Perhaps, he was going mad from all this time ashore. It was never a good thing to stay on land for too long.

He shook his head of all that nonsense. And it was nonsense, especially now, now that he was nearing his old age. He couldn't venture back out there. He'd... seen too much, lost too much.

The pirate turned on his heel and marched right back inside the tavern and back into the sweet, sweet darkness it offered.

...

Several hours and pints later, Jack was in the corner of the bar drowning his sours and trying to forget the memories of the night before. It was nearly night now and the tavern had been swarmed with new and old patrons alike. 

Music played from the band across the room, various men and ladies of the night danced along to the sound of the fiddler and his drummer. Jack was barely coherent and unable to pay attention to any of the goings-on around him as he sank further and further down in to his wooden seat.

His mind wandering, Jack let his unfocused eyes rest on the staircase leading up to the various rooms a floor above. His tired bones ached and so he slowly got to his feet, finishing his rum and sauntered up the stairs.

...

Several hours into unconsciousness, Jack was awoken by a rather loud stumbling noise occurring in his room. He rolled on to his side, squinting into the darkness and wondering just what had woken him.

A moment later, it was clear. William Turner was sitting down on the side of his bed and smiling gently at the older pirate.

"Wha... ? William?" He mumbled, disconcertedly.

"Hullo Jack." The man said, still smiling easily as he peered down at him.

"Why? Why must you torment me somethin' fierce?" He mumbled, rolling over onto his side and hiding his face in the bedding. "E'ry night, I can't... "

He trailed off and all was quiet in the small room, so much so that the pirate thought for a moment perhaps the man had left and he was alone once more. But alas, no, the man's grip moved to his shoulder and back, tightening as he moved closer to him, nearly breathing down his neck now.

"Why do you torment me?" Jack mumbled into his pillow. "I didn't mean t' do it, William. I'm sorry... it was the only way t' save you." He carried on like this for a while, mumbling almost incoherent apologies as he relived the day he helped Will stab that infernal heart, damning him to his fate.

"Jack... " William finally whispered, rubbing at his back in circles. "Jack, it's time to go."

The older man jumped up suddenly, shoving blindly at the specter and squeezing his eyes tight as he meant to barrel from the room, yet he didn't dare move much farther. "I won't! I won't venture back out there t' the sea! I can't... 'M too old... too... old. Just... leave m' be, boy."

Jack rubbed his eyes as he sat still then in the darkness, just staring out ahead from his place on the bed. He couldn't see much and that helped settle his nerves a little as to whether or not this ghost, this memory of a man was really there or not.

Then... a match was struck somehow, miraculously over on his right and Jack turned to see indeed it was his dear William who had struck it! He watched him bend to light the candle sat on the table next to them before discarding the match.

Now, bathed in the light of the candle, the two men sat facing each other eye to eye. Jack couldn't seem to work his mouth around any words and so it was Will who carried on.

"Jack, I meant... it's time for us to go."

"Us? Wha?" He sputtered. "You're dead... "

Will smiled sadly as he sat down on the bed and reached over to place a hand on top of Jack's own. It was pleasantly warm to the touch, puzzling Jack, just as it had been the night before, a thought he had only recalled just now.

"I'm here because... because I need to bring you back with me. It's time." Will said gently, kind eyes trying to portray sympathy and trust.

Jack stared at his friend, his lover, as the wheels slowly began to turn in his head. He turned the man's small hand over in his own before covering it with his other as well. He marveled at how real it felt, this simple grip.

Will leaned into him, closely and let his eyes flutter shut as he whispered, "Jack, just close your eyes." 

Jack felt alive, better than he had in a long while now. This feeling of William being here, being back. He sighed into the embrace, his own eyes fluttering shut as well. Will pressed his lips to his. They kissed and everything went dark.

...

The inn keep tapped her fingers along the bar, trying to be patient with the dark haired pirate. She was used to stragglers staying at the inn, used to having to threaten sometimes to get paid for a room but never like this! She had a full inn and many others waiting for a room at that. She could no longer wait for the older gentleman to bring her her money due.

She climbed the large staircase, one step at a time in her old age, slowly but surely making her way to his door. Gently rapping at the door, she wasn't surprised to be greeted with silence. This wouldn't be the first time she'd tried waking the man. It was common for one to have one too many bottles late into the morn and have to sleep it off.

Frustrated with his holding out of her funds she finally tried the door and was able to push it open. Slightly confused that it was actually unlocked, she entered cautiously.

The room was empty, save for a tricorne hat, some boots and other miscellaneous things. She swore under her breath as she realized the man must have slipped past her without paying.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd been swindled by a pirate, as was the nature of the job. No matter, she had a list of potential tenants a mile long and she'd have the room occupied within the hour. 

Closing the door behind her, she made her way down the stairs. The one thing she didn't understand, was why would someone leave a perfectly good pistol behind as well?

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd give a little twist on Will's curse/replacement for Davy Jones. What if he could not only help the dead on his ship but visit those who are near to death on land? Sort of like the Grim Reaper? That was really the idea behind this fic and honestly, the only way Jack and Will could be reunited.


End file.
